Harry Plotter: Musical Genius
by POAS
Summary: The first in the Harry Plotter series. Harry Potter and friends produce a musical after the fall of Voldemort. Harry slightly happily hooks two people up during the making of the musical. He didn't mean to though. Well he did. But that's not the point.
1. Chapter 1

Harry Plotter 

POAS

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It started with the end of the war on good ol' Voldie. Voldemort was all like, I am defeated! However, Harry Potter wasn't the only one kickin' some evil Dark Lord reptilian booty.

This is a totally stupid story I wrote for no reason. Mostly because I just can't stop readin' the Harry Potter fanfics. Quite possibly a parody by accident.

Summary: Harry plots on how to get his worst enemy and his best friend together. And he's not talkin' about Ron. Snape conveniently tells the Golden Teens about a musical and Harry's plan is put into action. With the help of a few choice Muggle songs.

**WARNING: SPOILER FOR HALF BLOOD PRINCE AHEAD, USE CAUTION WHILE SWITCHING LANES! FINES DOUBLE FOR SPEEDING IN CONSTRUCTION ZONES!**

PS: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter and anything else that you recognize in the Harry Potter Universe. The songs used will have their owners posted at the end of the chapter they are featured in. The plot, I can safely say, is all mine. MINE DAMNIT! The sarcasm is mine as well. The idea to make Harry Potter and crew do stupid things… well, that's not exactly mine, but I am invoking my evil privilege to make characters do what I want them to.

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**Who Throws Bricks, Honestly?**

Harry Potter watched quietly in the shadow of a tree as Draco and Lucius fought one another. The Dark Lord watched the two wizards poke at each other with their wands, throw the occasional hex, and poke at each other some more. All was going to plan, all was well. Until that damn Golden Trio, minus Harry, popped out of nowhere. That would make them the Golden Duo, Deut? Whatever. The point was, they were about to be Avada Kedavra'd into next week or Hell, either one.

"Damnit," Lucius cursed softly. Those overzealous little brats would ruin everything and take all the glory. Damnit it all to hell.

Draco turned around and watched as that Weasley kid was hit upside the head with something akin to a brick. For a Dark Lord, he had some really bad curses. Or at least bad aim. Knowing this, he signaled to Potter to begin his little plan of how to kick Voldemort's sorry scaly butt once and for all. Gathering up his courage, Draco jumped in front of Weasley's way only to have his father jump in front of him as the dreaded and green (much like the hide of Voldemort) Avada Kedavra was sent spiraling toward the two boys. Watching his father die with a shrug, Draco pointed his wand at the Dark Lord as did Hermione, who again, appeared out of nowhere, Weasley (that redheaded, poor, second-hand robe wearin'…) Harry, the scar-faced Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Die, and the random Professor Snape. The Dark Lord had the decency to let a sweat drop bead on the top of his head before he was turned into a pile of ash. Scooping up the Dark Lord into a jar, Snape randomly disappeared, leaving four teens just standing in a field. They took the hint and left soon after, but not before poking Lucius' dead body a few times with their wands.

Back at Hogwarts, the ghost of the late Dumbledore was dancing around the Great Hall with glee. His eyes still twinkled, he knew how Snape hated that, and he was still all knowing and wise, but now he could go through walls and bother people at will. His ghostly figure grinned merrily. What he wouldn't give for a lemon drop.

Slowly, the Golden Quad walked into Hogwarts magically unharmed. However, that was mostly due to Voldemort's sissy throwing of bricks instead of curses and Unforgiveables. Ron looked at Hermione, then Harry, then finally at Draco. The Slytherin simply brushed a few strands of stray hair from his face with a whip of his head and frowned softly. His dad was dead. Dead. Lucius was dead. Then Draco started doing what he called his "Happy Dance".

Hermione smiled as Draco danced, which did not go unnoticed by a redhead watcher boy. Draco continued dancing happily and wooting excitedly until Professor Snape appeared out of nowhere. Clearing his throat, the Professor began talking at the now Golden Quad.

"Mr. Malfoy, if you would please stop dancing for a moment," he said in all seriousness, despite the fact that it was hilariously funny.

Malfoy stopped dancing, but did not stop grinning like Ron and Harry in Honeyduke's. Though the Professor had admittedly killed Dumbledore, he only did as he was asked by the great wizard. Harry Potter had to go on to defeat Voldemort once in for all, it was Dumbledore's last request. As a living being. Now his ghost haunted the halls, more specifically Snape's own private rooms. Maybe it was revenge for killing him, or maybe Snape was the only Professor who wouldn't try to destroy his ghost, either way, he stuck around. A lot. For a long time. Without going away. Constantly. There. Always. Watching him. Shaking himself from his thoughts, he began again.

"Hogwarts is putting on a play, a musical of sorts, and we would appreciate it if the Golden Quad wrote one. The rules are as follows," he pulled a piece of parchment from his left robe pocket, "One, Muggle music must be used; two, there must be some sort of… romance; three, there must be some sort of fight; four, magic may be used, but not to harm, hurt, maim, or kill; and finally, someone has to choreograph some sort of dance number. Any questions?"

Hermione raised her hand. He twitched.

"Any questions at all? No? Well then, I'll be going…" he smirked, turning on his heel.

"I have a question!" Hermione said softly.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"Can there be a fight over a possible romance?"

"Yes… now if that is all-"

"It's not. Can we kiss?" she blushed softly.

"Nothing too much like snogging, but yes," he glowered, his back still turned.

"One more thing…"

"Oh God," he cursed silently.

"Can the entire thing be written by Harry, he's quite good at writing."

"As long as the rest of you do the acting, yes!" he near shouted. Despite Voldemort being dead, he still had a rather short temper, especially when it came to know-it-all bookworm-y little muggle-borns. However, secretly, he was rather fond of the Golden Quad. He started walking away when another question was asked.

"Can it be completely silent, with only the music and lip syncing?" Harry asked quietly.

"As long as I get the pleasure of casting Silencio on Miss Granger," he chuckled.

"Of course Professor!" Ron laughed. "We wouldn't have it any other way."

For the second time that day, young Ronald was hit in the face with a brick.

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AN: Wheeeee. This is my first attempt at a Harry Potter fanfic. I've never read the books. And I probably never will. I know everyone is pretty much OOC. Well, maybe not so much. And they may not continue to be. I mean, hell, yah never know when there's some sarcastic psycho with a keyboard and mal-intent for the Harry Potter Universe. There will be more chapters, of course, because this isn't over 'til the fat lady sings! … very punny.

The one, the only, the truest, bluest sarcastic wench,

POAS

PS: I don't know what they mean by public domain when the refer to music lyrics. Any lyrics that follow were taken from lyric sites on the internet from some songs that I actually own. I hope I'm not breaking any rules by buying the songs and then using the lyrics I got from lyric sites and those cute little booklets they give you when you buy the CD. (is lost) Help is appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hit Me 'Mione One More Time**

POAS

The Golden Quad went their separate ways as they still had to go to class, even though they had just killed Voldemort and were expected to be able to balance school work with this musical, which so far lacked a name. Harry sat down in his usual seat in Potions next to Ron, he honestly didn't expect Snape to act any differently toward the once Golden Trio, though he still favored Draco more. Only Dumbledore knew why. The young scarred wizard sighed. If only he had the chance to talk to Dumbledore. It seemed that every father figure in his life was killed off by those damn Death Eaters. Imagine his surprise when the ghost of Dumbledore appeared beside him, sitting and bouncing like a giddy kid high on Pixy Stix. Dumbledore looked to Harry with a twinkle in his eye.

"Hello," he said happily.

"DUMBLEDORE!" Harry squealed.

From somewhere toward the front of the room, the class heard Snape's muffled yell of "OH FOR THE LOVE OF MERLIN!" to which the class erupted into a fit of mad giggles.

"I stay down here mostly," Dumbledore grinned, "bothering Severus and what not. It's quite fun. You should try it."

"NO HE SHOULDN'T!" Snape yelled again from some unseen corner.

Dumbledore simply chuckled at Harry's grin of surprise, with a mixture of happiness, spread across his youthful face. So, Dumbledore was technically dead, but he was still there. Kind of. And right now, he needed advice on what to name the musical. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled again knowingly.

"Put the word Muggle into the title for sure," Dumbledore said before disappearing.

"'Kay," Harry said absently.

"Muggle Martini," Ron said softly, but clearly.

"Muggle Remix?" Harry asked.

"Mixed Muggles?"

Professor Snape walked to the front of his classroom, picking lint from his robes, and then proceeded to command the class to make some sort of Ghost Begone potion. With a flick of his wand, the instructions were posted. While mixing their potion, Harry and Ron continued to shoot out ideas.

"Remixed Muggles?" Harry muttered softly.

"Muggles Gone Wild?" Ron suggested.

"How about 'Make the Potion!'" Snape suggested loudly from behind the two.

They jumped, effectively bumping their heads together. As they rubbed their heads, Harry came up with an idea. And a good one at that.

Hermione stared at the board absently, waiting for their snarky, greasy, stupid-headed Professor to hurry up and start class. She stared at the back of Draco's head. For a boy who just lost his father he was in good spirits. She supposed it was because he never really liked his father. Or maybe because he wasn't going to Azkaban for killing him. Whatever the case, he was very sexy when he smiled. She sighed softly, that soft little sigh of "oh I wish I had him as my secret lover". She was snapped from her reverie when she heard Harry scream: "DUMBLEDORE!". To which Snape screamed "OH FOR THE LOVE OF MERLIN" from somewhere beyond the classroom. Turning her attentions back to Draco's head, she was surprised to meet eyes with the Slytherin wonder. He smiled at her and she smiled back. At least they were friends, somewhat, especially since they had to work together now. On a musical. With no name.

"Put the word Muggle into the title for sure," she heard Dumbledore suggest.

She heard Ron and Harry say ideas out loud before Snape reprimanded them and told them to just make the potion. She quietly worked on her potion as she thought of ideas for the title of the musical. But none came. She noted this with a bit of sadness. But shrugged it off. Ever the Gryffindor.

The sneaky, sexy, Slytherin blonde boy assumed Sex God, mulled silently over the day's events. One, they killed Voldemort. Two, his father died (whoot whoot). Three, Snape helped and then scooped up the Dark Lord. Four, Dumbledore's ghost appeared out of nowhere with those damn twinkling eyes. Five, he was hungry. Six, he had been enlisted to do a musical written by Harry Potter. Seven, Hermione kept staring at him. Eight, his potion smelled funny. Nine, he had to pee real bad. Ten, Weasel got hit in the face with a brick. Twice. He grinned at the last number on his list. Now he mulled over what music Harry would choose. Please, none of that teenybopper bitch, or any form of pop, and no corny songs. The songs had to be emotional but fit with what was happening in the scene presented to the school. Were they going to have auditions for more actors? Who was going to have a lead role? Why the hell did he have to pee so bad? All these questions whirled around in Draco's skull. Oh Merlin, was he going to have to dance?

He heard Weasley squeal and snapped his head in the direction of the Gryffindors.

Ronald Weasley was dancing around like a man on fire holding his foot. Though he looked upset, the grin on his face told the room he was happy about something. He just wished Hermione would never hit him with a brick again. What, did she have some sort of brick fetish like the Dark Lord?

"I never want to hear you suggest that again," she hissed lowly.

"But Hermione," Harry stifled a laugh, "she's not that bad!"

"Do you want a brick too?"

Harry held up his hands in defeat.

"Okay, okay. No Brittany Spears!" Ron laughed heartily, dropping his foot to the ground.

Harry grabbed his wand from his pocket and pretended it was a microphone. He then proceeded to let the world know just what he was thinking.

"Hit Ron, 'Mione, one more time!" he sang jokingly.

For the third time that day, someone got hit in the face with a brick.


End file.
